Mr. B. Urie

18

So, I have a confession to make. Darren was not only a guy I slept with a few times. He was the guy I slept with the most, and he was the one who got me pregnant. Of course, he has no idea that that ever happened, and if anyone told him I would deny it through and through.

It wasn't love, whatever we had together, but it was something. Even before my mom died, we would hang out together. He was the first one I slept with, and that changed everything. After that, we never just hung out, we always had sex if we were together. That's why he thought it was going to happen again when he saw me in the cafeteria because we haven't been 'just friends' since seventh grade.

Now, we sit side by side in the library. The teacher told us to study for our exams that start in two weeks, but let's be honest, does anyone ever study when they're told to? No. We talk and talk and talk.

"So, you have a boyfriend?" He says, doodling on a piece of paper. It seems like an innocent question to ask, but I know what he's getting at.

"Yeah, he's a bit older. We met when we were kids and recently reconnected." I leave out the part about him being my English teacher before I switched schools, because . . . Well, that's self-explanatory.

"Oh, you're into the older ones now?" Darren says, sending me a devilish grin. "What, does he have more wit? A better kiss? A hotter touch?" Then he leans in closer to me and whispers, "a better fuck?"

"Better than any boy I'll ever meet." I scoff, pushing him away from my ear. It feels weird to be talking about something so personal while being surrounded by so many people.

"But sweety, you had me." He whines, letting out a groan of frustration. I roll my eyes and crack open my textbook. I am so done with this conversation. "I'm sorry, it's just really hard to think you've changed that much."

"I went four years without having sex, Darren, not that it's any of your business. I was going through a rough patch in life back then, once a whore, not always a whore. If you can't accept that, we can't be friends again." I stand up and collect my stuff, marching out of the library. A few people stare at me in confusion, but I manage not to get the teacher's attention.

Arie: OMG you're not going to believe this, but the guy who got me pregnant now somehow goes to my school and he's trying to get me back and . . . Can you come get me?

I text Brendon anxiously, pacing a track into the hallway in front of my locker. I know there's still another period in the day, but I'm really freaking out about Darren. I don't think Brendon will mind skipping out, we've done it before . . .

B😋😙: Sorry, doll, I can't miss fourth today. I'm sure everything will be fine, I'll be there after school as always. What's this dbag's name?

Arie: Darren fucking Young

B😋😙: I'll take care of him, love you

Arie: love you too

I'm only slightly worried about what he means by, "take care of him" because Darren deserves to be punched in the face for the dickery he's been pulling. I make my way to my fourth period class. Hopefully, Darren isn't in that one.

*****

I wait outside the school for Brendon's black BMW and look around nervously for Darren. Then I see it: Darren talking to a tall, curly-haired woman on the front steps. From far away, I can't tell who it is, but it sure looks a hell of a lot like Sarah. I shake it off when I hear Brendon call me from the opposite direction. He's parked his car and is walking towards me.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, I couldn't find my God damn phone." He chuckles, kissing me on the cheek. He starts to walk me back to his car as I look up at him, confused.

"Well, it couldn't have gone too far. You just had it before fourth period." He better not be turning into an old man, I'm not ready for that kind of relationship.

"What do you mean?" He asks, stopping in his tracks about five feet from the car.

"Uh, I texted you? You texted me back? Wow, B, your memory is really starting t—"

"Ariella!" I hear Darren shout from behind me and I cringe. First of all, he sounds very upset, probably because I walked out on him in third period. Second, I'm very confused, because if Brendon doesn't have his phone and doesn't remember texting me earlier, then either he's going fucking crazy, or someone else has it. If it's the latter . . . Then who was I texting?

"Ariella, you fucking bitch!" Darren screams, turning me around, roughly, to look at him.

"Excuse me?" I gape, practically growling the words. Nobody calls me a bitch in that tone of voice, he should know better. The last kid to do so got a kick to the groin and a bloody nose.

"You heard me, you cunt!" He squares his jaw and narrows his eyes. It's meant to look menacing, but on him, it just looks like he's pretending to be his father.

"What in God's name is this about?" Brendon asks, stepping between Darren and I. Darren looks down at him and sneers.

"Oh, you think your little girlfriend is a saint, don't you? Let me tell you this: she's not. When her mom died, she fucked the whole grade eight graduating class. She was barely thirteen, and her first victim? Me. I was her best fucking friend, and she ruined that by saying, 'I need to do something more than just sit around and cry. Wanna have sex?' You know, I thought she was joking? I actually laughed in her face, until she climbed on top of me."

"Shut up, Darren, it's not like I raped you." I feel hot, wet tears rolling down my cheeks as I beg him to stop. But he doesn't.

"Sure, but don't blame me for our relationship being ruined. You're the one who asked for it. And you wanna know the worst part?" He looks at Brendon, who looks at me with a short side glance. I shrug and step a little closer. "The worst part is that I was the last one she slept with before leaving. She never said goodbye, and she never told me about the baby that she killed just a few months prior."